Just His Smile
by BelleMorteAmoureux
Summary: Well a story about Draco and Harry. I kinda mashed the 6th and 7th book together. Both Draco and Harry have secrets and a chain of events will lead them to confide in each other. What is the outcome? You'll see.DMHP. Give it a chance! Please REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1

** b A/N: This is my first HP fan fiction! I'm working very hard on it for you guys so I'm sorry for the slow updates. Please review it and tell me what you think of it so far. It would mean a lot! /b **

**Chapter One**

He was lost in thinking of the platinum hair, the piercing eyes, and the-

"Watch where you're going Potter!" Draco Malfoy snapped as he smacked into Harry's shoulder, disrupting his thoughts. Malfoy looked back over his shoulder and gave a sly smirk that only he seemed capable of.

"The way he constantly displays hostility to me," he mumbled under his breath. He stared at Draco's retreating back until Draco was more than halfway down the corridor. His eyes lingering just long enough for Ron to notice.

"Come off it Harry. It's Malfoy, What do you expect?" Ron says putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and leading him away toward the grand staircase.

What did I expect? Harry said to himself. Consideration? Caring? Maybe even…loving? His conscience whispered. Harry shook his head to clear the thought. He sighed and made the ascent to the seventh floor where the Gryffindor dormitories were located. As he trudged upwards, he was vaguely aware of the conversation Ron was trying to force upon the silence. It was something about Hermione being daft and something else all together about the Chudley Cannons. "I am right though aren't I?" Ron inquired, looking at Harry.

"Err…" Harry started to say.

"What's wrong with you Harry? You haven't been listening this entire time have you?" Ron said.

"Well…I err…no," Harry answered.

"Look mate," Ron said, "I dunno what's wrong, but this isn't bloody natural of you, so you better start spilling it".

Of course Ron wouldn't know what's wrong. Harry himself didn't even know what was bothering him. Harry was about to say that last thought aloud, when the portrait of the Fat Lady suddenly swung forward revealing a mass of bushy brown hair. "Hermione," Harry greeted her. Ron averted his eyes and mumbled something incoherent. 

"Oh hello. Erm Harry can I have a word," she glance towards Ron, "In private?"

"Yeah well I need to go find Lavender anyway," Ron grunted.

As they all crawled through the passageway into the common room, Harry heard a high-pitched squealing of "Won-Won!" as Lavender practically jumped onto Ron. Hermione gave an exasperated sigh and dragged Harry roughly by his arm to the opposite side of the room. She practically shoved him into one of the chairs that surrounded a round table before settling herself down in the chair opposite Harry's.

"What is it Hermione?" Harry asked.

"That!" she yelped, flourishing her hand at Ron and Lavender who were know snogging furiously as though they were trying to eat each other from the mouth down.

"Yeah…bit dramatic isn't it?"

"A bit dramatic?" she asked, her eyes bulging. "I don't know how much more of it I can take! He's doing it on purpose just to make a show of it, I'm certain! Plus, if I have to listen to Lavender Brown ranting about how wonderful 'Won-Won' is one more time, I'll go mad!"

Harry stared at her with both of his eyebrows raised. "I knew it's been bothering you, but that much?"

"Yes that much! I-" Hermione stared to say, when a loud girlish giggling distracted her. She shot a glance toward Ron and Lavender and then stood up and walked briskly out of the room. No doubt to the library.

"Right then," Harry said to the empty mahogany chair in front of him. He slowly got up and walked up the stairs to the boy's dormitory giving one at last glance Ron, who did not look like he would be coming up any time soon. He walked up the winding stone staircase and let his hand trail along the cold wall. Harry hoped that no one was in the dormitory. He wanted some time alone to go over today's events. He pushed open the door that led to the circular boy's dormitory and relief spread through him.

Luckily, he found that no one had come up to bed yet and he was thankful for the solitude. He walked to the foot of his four-poster bed to rummage in his trunk for his nightclothes. Harry barely even took thought to dressing. His mind was too preoccupied with so many innermost thoughts that he had not yet shared with anyone.

He pulled the curtains shut, and lay on his bed, looking up towards the ceiling. Today was extremely hectic what with all the assignments all his teachers were forcing upon everyone now that the second term had begun. Snape was unusually harsh today if that was even possible. He had deducted 20 points from Gryffindor because Neville's potion had yet again, been horribly wrong. Neville was lucky that Snape hadn't made him drink it this time.

Harry let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding, and crossed his arms behind his neck. He didn't want to sleep. Harry knew that the moment he would allow himself to sleep, his dreams would be plagued with the thoughts and actions of Lord Voldemort. He wouldn't sleep. He couldn't sleep. But his mind and body had betrayed him and with his eyes fluttering shut, he drifted.

_He was in a dingy, dusty room with a small shaft of light shimmering through a grimy window and someone was chained to the wall in front of him, slumped forward putting tension on the rusted chains._

"Once again, tell me where it is!" Voldemort's voice thundered.

"I told you, I don't know where it is. I know nothing of it," a weak voice came from the battered man hanging from the chains. His voice came out in raspy, quick breaths.

"Well, it seems then that I no longer have any use for you Ollivander," Voldemort said with utter calmness in his voice.

"No please! No!" Ollivander tried to scream, but it only came out as a hoarse grunting sound.

"Crucio!"

Ollivander twisted and writhed against the wall, a look of extreme pain and torment upon his face. His mouth opened and closed rapidly, unable to make a sound. His wrists cut into the shackles that bound him and blood splattered on the grime-encrusted floor in thick sticky pools.  
  
"No!" Harry awoke with a start. His scar burned and ached with the intensity of fire. It almost felt like his skull was splitting apart. He clenched his fists tight to try and get past the searing pain. The intensity slowly ebbed away until just a shadow of the torture was left.

He was sweating and his chest rose and fell rapidly with his breathing. He threw off the heavy duvet cover and pulled aside the red and gold embroidered curtains that surrounded his bed. He looked all around at his sleeping friends and was amazed to find that he had not woken them with his scream.

He stood, and crossed to the stained-glass window near his bed. He opened the latch carefully so as no to wake the still sleeping boys, and pulled the pane of glass inwards. Harry hoisted himself up onto the ledge and let his feet dangle over the edge. He felt a rushing feeling in the pit of his stomach; knowing that if he fell from this high up, it would certainly be the death of him. The cold, winter night air stung his face and chilled the sweat upon his flesh. He looked away from the Hogwarts grounds and instead looked down at his hands and fidgeted with the hem of his nightshirt.

So, Voldemort is looking for something, Harry thought to himself. But what? What could he possibly need the wand maker Ollivander for? It didn't make sense to him and he didn't know what to make of the Dark Lord's new plan. Part of him wanted to tell Ron and Hermione about it right away, but Harry knew they would blow it all out of proportion and beg him to tell Dumbledore. He would tell Dumbledore, but not yet. Not now. Not when he didn't even know what it meant.

Harry lifted his head and looked once more towards the grounds. It seemed so peaceful, so serene. The sky was overcast and the clouds swelled, pregnant with rain that would drop soon. The Black Lake rippled and Harry could just make out the giant squid's tentacles below the glassy surface. Now he looked towards the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid's hut. No warm, glowing light emitted from its windows at this late hour. He sighed. He wished for some comfort after the new dream. Something to make him feel all right, that would let him know that he would triumph over the Dark Lord. But nothing came.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Harry went into panic mode. A tall, black-cloaked figure was gliding swiftly toward the lake. His heart sped faster and thumped under his rib cage. The figure strode to the shore of the Black Lake, far below Harry's watching eyes, and then stopped. Harry strained his eyes to try and see who or what, it was.

The cloaked figure sat down on the bank and removed its hood. Harry saw blond hair shining in the moonlight.

"Malfoy?" he whispered. Harry cocked his head to one side. What was he doing outside of the castle at this forsaken hour?

A loud clap of thunder roared and Harry saw Malfoy jump and raise his face to the skies. He himself had nearly fallen off the ledge. Harry shivered and drew his arms around his knees and wondered how Draco could stand the cold. Draco? He shook his head for the umpteenth time that day. It had always been _Malfoy, _not _Draco._ What was going on today? He shrugged and continued to watch the blond boy by the lake.

As a matter of fact, Draco had been on Harry's mind a lot these days. He annunciated the name _Draco_ loudly in his head. Maybe to prove a point that he could call him whatever he found suit. Harry furrowed his brow and pondered that small fact that he was always on his mind. He would find himself wandering in the corridors just for a chance to see Draco on some days. And when he didn't see Draco, he was thinking about him. Harry wanted the other boy's acceptance even though he wasn't sure why. Draco Malfoy has never once been nice to him and the Malfoy family was far worse. So why did he strive to be near him?

Harry snapped out of his almost trance-like thoughts and began to watch Draco again. He was still sitting on the shore, but now he had started to throw stones smoothly across the black, glassy lake. Harry wondered what could be troubling the Slytherin Prince. All of a sudden, Malfoy had thrown his head into his hands and just sat there; a pile of stones lay forgotten next to him.

Harry sat up and stared hard at the boy in black. Was that…shaking? Could the tough, cold-hearted Draco Malfoy be crying? Was that even an emotion he knew how to express and feel?

"I need to know what's going on," Harry said to no one in particular.

"Draco," he whispered into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Draco couldn't sleep at all that night. There were way too many thoughts to sleep. His fingers massaged his temples over and over, trying to release some pressure. He sat in the Slytherin common room for hours trying to relieve the ache in his head and just staring at the dying embers in the fireplace before grabbing his black woolen cloak and walking up the stone steps and out of the dank dungeons. His feet made soft pattering noises against the dungeon's floor and steps as he walked.

He slipped the cloak on and fastened it tight and made sure that the hood covered his face and blond hair in darkness. He didn't want to get caught skulking around after curfew. Getting caught isn't what Malfoys are known for. Draco stayed alongside the stone walls, where the most shadow was. He hoped Filch and Mrs. Norris were patrolling the upper floors, nowhere near the lowest level. He began to walk along the corridors, pausing at every little sound and at every minute movement.

He had at last arrived at his destination. It was a statue of a winged boar that concealed a secret passageway to the grounds. Draco glanced behind his back to make sure no one was following him and then drew his wand from inside his robes. He then tapped his wand against the boar muttering, "Dissendium". A small hatch opened at the point where his wand touched. He gave one last backward glance and then slipped down into the passage.

The hatch sealed itself once Draco had dropped to his feet at the bottom of the shoot. He brushed away any stray dirt or dust that had fallen onto his cloak as he dropped down to the floor.

"Lumos," Draco said. A beam of light flared to life from the tip of his wand and illuminated the dark passageway. The last thing he wanted was tripping over something and falling down into the grime. Draco carefully made his way through the dusty, winding tunnel as quickly as possible until he saw a steep stone staircase.

"Finally! This bloody tunnel gets longer every time," Draco said to himself.

He climbed the staircase and pushed open a small trapdoor that opened up to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He caught his first glimpse of outside as he pushed the trapdoor higher above his head. The forest floor was covered in dead, brittle leaves that crunched under his hands. As he pulled himself out of the passageway, the trapdoor snapped shut sending a puff of dust floating into the night air. Draco wiped his hands on his cloak and straightened up. He shivered and drew his cloak tighter around his thin body and looked down at the trapdoor to make sure it had been hidden under leaves. Draco then made his way cautiously towards his favorite spot right on the shores of the Black Lake.

He clambered down the slippery banks until he had found a large stone that was bare of mud. He sat down on the large rock and removed his hood. What had he gotten himself into? He raised his sleeve just enough to look at the skull and snake that looked burned onto his arm. He frowned. Well, it was burned. Yes, he, Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. He hadn't even given me a choice, Draco thought to himself as he lobbed a rock into the dark water. A distant memory that hadn't entered his mind for many years came flooding into his mind…

"_I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Don't you love me Daddy?" a young Draco of about six or seven pleaded and screamed. His face was tear-stained and purplish bruises had bloomed all along the right side of his face. His lower lip was split and a thin line of blood had dribbled down towards his chin._

"_Never forget your place in this household Draco," Lucious Malfoy said to his trembling son as he swung his closed fist back down to connect with Draco's already battered face... _

Thunder boomed and he jumped. His father had never even answered his question. But he was very sure he knew the answer already, even without his father having to say it. A scowl pulled at the corners of his mouth. And everyone wondered why he was so bitter.

"Damn," he looked up at the sky. It'll start raining soon. He tossed another rock into the water. He now began to think about the task that had been forced upon him by Lord Voldemort. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. But the consequences…the consequences would be far worse than the act itself. He didn't want to die! Draco Malfoy was afraid. Afraid of his father, afraid of Lord Voldemort, afraid of death!

"_I'm so scared Daddy…"_

He flung his head down into the palms of his hands and cried. Sob after sob shook his thin frame and pathetic gasps escaped his mouth. Draco gripped at his blond hair and trembled rather violently.

"What h-have I be-become?" he chocked out. Large teardrops dangled from his eyelashes and fell to their demise on the soil.

Draco let himself fall backwards onto the damp grass and he stared up at the dark purplish-gray sky. One drop of rain fell upon his pale face. He wiped it away, but five more drops came in its place. The rain began to come down harder and the drops mixed and mingled with the tears still fresh on his face.

"_Draco…_"

He shot up suddenly. He could have sworn he had just heard his name whispered on the wind. For one fleeting moment he thought it was his father. He looked all around to see nobody. Thunder crashed and roared and lightning flared to life. Draco's usually pristine and perfect hair had been tousled and stuck out at odd angles and bits of mud clung to some of the blond ends.

"Who-who's there?" he asked, stumbling upright to his feet. His breath came out shuddering and his teeth were chattering uncontrollably. His eyes were wide and showing too much white and his pupils dilated. Draco's robes and cloak were thoroughly soaked through and the cold stung him to the bone. He knew someone was there. How else would he have heard his name? Draco began to climb up the bank, grabbing fistfuls of muddy sprouts that stuck out of the ground to steady himself. His shoes squelched and sunk into the mud and then suddenly slid out from under him.

Draco tried to grip tighter onto the shoots of grass he was holding onto, but with a loud pop, the plant snapped and broke out of his hand.

"Ah!" Draco let out a small, surprised cry and fell backwards, arms flailing. He hit the water. He hit the water hard. The icy water engulfed him and weighed him down. He sank under the surface and his arms were still stretched above him hoping to find something to grasp. But nothing was there. He sunk lower and tried to wriggle upwards, but found that it was his cloak that was dragging him down. Draco tried to shrug off the heavy cloak and he thrashed wildly in the water until it floated down to the murky depths.

Draco opened his eyes looked up; the surface was so far away. But it was okay. He wasn't even cold anymore. In fact, he felt quite warm. His chest felt tight and his whole body tingled, but other than that, a small soft smile formed on his face.

"_I'm not scared anymore Daddy…"_


End file.
